Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
OPHELIA
Imade a grave mistake, one that leaves me ambling home, covered in the blanket of night and buzzing from the shared drinks. From the outside, the darkened home is quiet, peaceful, and stylish. There’s only one thing, one person, who can ruin such a lovely evening.
Lady Ashbridge stands on the front porch, draped in black. Years have passed, but it’s as though she never stopped mourning after Father’s funeral.
“My lady,” I murmur, ducking my head as I slip past her. “Excuse me.”
I’m never fast enough.
“I am sure you will be full of excuses by the night’s end. Where do you think you are going?”
I lift my bag, smiling sheepishly. “To put the groceries away.”
“Ah. Of course. Surely groceries kept you out until the dead of the night and nothing else. No one else.”
How does she know? Did someone follow me?
My throat tightens, and I look back, but there’s no one behind me.
“I can’t pretend to know what you mean,” I say in a high-pitched voice.
Lady Ashbridge closes the door behind us with a thud. She fiddles with the lock—CLICK. The sound is final. I’m trapped in my father’s home.
My home.
My stepsisters stand at the top of the stairs, each wearing a wary expression. They remain silent, always silent. I’m not naive enough to think they will stand up for me—no one will. I’m alone, as I have been since Father’s passing.
I keep my head down and shuffle to the kitchen. My stepmother never visits this room, has never cooked in her life, but now she follows three steps behind.
“Raia,” Lady Ashbridge shouts. “Elisa! Come down at once.”
“Yes, Mother.” Raia practically trips over her feet to join her mother, and Elisa follows closely behind.
“It appears you were not listening to my previous warnings,” Lady Ashbridge says. “Allow me to repeat myself. While the fae are in town, no one will leave this home past nightfall. You are to come home before the sun sets. Have I made myself clear now?”
“Yes, Mother,” my stepsisters say in unison.
“Understood.” My hands shake as I pile apples into a blue painted bowl.
There’s no way for Lady Ashbridge to know how I’ve spent my evening, but the pricking sensation moving up my neck says otherwise. She must know, and she’s fuming, even though she doesn’t go as far as to accuse me outright.
“The situation is worse than we presumed.” Lady Ashbridge waves a letter in the air. The purple seal symbolizes royalty, featuring a crown with a golden sun motif. The seal of the Sun Palace. “The fae prince himself is in town—and look at this, we received an invitation from the royal family.”
The prince.
The fae I met in the tavern must not be the only ones in our sleepy town. Why would they hold a ball near Far Water, a simple village of farmers and mundane witches?
“We received an invitation to a royal ball?” Elisa perks up. “How special we are, Mama.”
“Do not look so excited,” Lady Ashbridge says.
“This is a dangerous matter. He is here to find his future mate, and you should pray that it will not be you. He will look for a mortal to whisk away into the dreaded land of the fae. Their charmed food will control the poor thing to do whatever the prince pleases. Does that sound like the future you want?”
“Oh, no,” Raia says, quivering.
This is how everyone in my village speaks of the fae. Can they truly be that evil? Can I truly be one of them if they are? The man in the tavern certainly did not seem evil.
My jaw tightens.
“How horrible.” Elisa’s expression doesn’t match the words. Her face is alight as she locks eyes with her sister, and I can practically hear their thoughts.
Somehow, their ideas will get me in trouble. I know it.
“It is horrendous.” Lady Ashbridge steps out of the room. “Needless to say, on the day of the ball, you are not to leave this home at all—not even while the sun is up. The sooner the fae are gone, the better. We can return to our lives then.”
“Yes, Mama.” Raia nods diligently.
It’s not until Lady Ashbridge is gone that I turn to my stepsisters, observing them with a keen stare. “You’re not truly thinking of—”
“But we are.” Elisa bounces on the balls of her feet. “At least, I am. This may be the only opportunity we have to attend a ball full of such regal people.”
“Regal fae.” I scoff. “Your mother will never allow it.”
“But she won’t know,” Elisa says. “Surely you won’t tell her.”
Raia shifts and glances at the door through which their mother left. “This is our only chance. Our royalty never invites us to their balls.”
That’s true. I have never craved an invitation to such an event, but I can understand their curiosity. It’s the same curiosity that led me to share a drink with a strange fae, one whose name I still don’t know.
I bite the inside of my cheek. “I won’t tell a soul.”
There’s much I do that my stepsisters don’t tell their mother, and I keep secrets from them as well—like tonight, the night in a tiny room with a white-haired fae, with our hands clasped together. No, they mustn’t know about it.
Ladies should be allowed to have a precious few secrets.
Those who aren’t ladies, like myself, are allowed to have many.
“I only hope you’ll remain safe,” I say.
“Won’t you come with us?” Raia asks.
A flicker of hope ignites in my broken chest, but I swiftly snuff it out.
What would I wear? I’ve made most of my dresses by hand, and they’re nowhere near as lovely as the flamboyant gowns the fae royalty will wear. No, no. It’s not a possibility for me.
I force on a stony expression, lest my sisters see my disappointment. “How could I? I’m not fit for balls.”
“That’s not true,” Raia says.
“But it is. I doubt my name was on the invitation. I should remain at home. It’s better that I keep Lady Ashbridge distracted while you sneak to the ball.”
My stepsisters exchange a look.
“Yes,” Elisa says, “well, I suppose… if you think that’s for the best, it would be helpful.”
“Then I will hear no more of it.” I fold my bag underneath my arm. “I’m going to get some air in the garden, if you don’t mind.”
“That’s no problem.” Raia giggles. “We have much to attend to ourselves.”
At least my stepsisters are happy. When, oh when, will I be?
My stepsisters will attend a ball and dance with handsome suitors. Someday, they will have favorable marriages. I may have a wedding myself when the time is right, but it will be nowhere near as glamorous as theirs.
These things don’t usually matter to me, but a poisonous sting of bitter jealousy stabs at me as I step outside, inhaling deeply.
I sit by the fountain, and fresh air blows my hair around my face.
Marble cherubs tower above me, spilling water from their vessels into the pool below.
Cherubs, common fae from the Palace of Venus.
What would it be like there? I’ll never know.
I’ll never have a chance to stretch my wings beyond this tiny garden.
A single tear trails down my cheek and drops into the watery pool. It ripples and sparkles, and in my reflection…
There is someone else.
Someone with pointed ears, violet eyes, and a mischievous smile. Her face is youthful, but her eyes are wrinkled, and her plumpness suggests a life of luxury.
It’s as if I’m looking into my future.
“Don’t cry.” The reflection’s mouth moves, and though the sound appears to come from another plane, it’s coming from her.
I cover my mouth to stifle a scream.
The reflection speaks again. “Please relax, dear one, or I’ll have to leave so soon.”
She laughs, but her chiming giggles only cause me to stumble back. I trip over my dress and fall onto my behind.
A full-grown woman rises from the pool without a drop of water on her silky white gown. Gods—it’s a fae—a fae with the same lavender wings and eyes I have.
A Moon Fae.
“You must leave at once!” I hiss. “My stepmother may accept a witch’s magic, but she’ll never allow magic like this.”
She laughs again, but I fail to see what she finds amusing. “Dear one, I am no sorcerer. You can be at ease.”
There’s no reason for me to trust this stranger. She towers above me, and I’m smaller than ever, trembling on the ground while my heart threatens to race out of my chest.
“Then what are you?”
“I am a fae, like you.” She extends a hand. That’s not precisely the answer I’m seeking; a fae is no more trustworthy than a sorceress. “Let me help you up before your dress becomes soiled.”
My heart thuds in my ears. Taking her hand doesn’t feel like my decision; it’s as if my body does it for me, moving without permission. She lifts me to my feet with strength someone her age shouldn’t possess.
I’ve never seen someone as beautiful as this woman, who shines like a star, her skin glowing in the moonlight.
How can heavenly beings be so hated? Sparkling, glittery stars are woven into her cloak, which trails on the ground behind her.
Her pale hair is the same soft lavender as her wings, a perfect match, so unlike how I feel in my fae form.
“What are you doing in my garden?” I shake my head. “I’m not sure if my magic has become too strong—”
Perhaps I summoned this strange fae into my life without trying. Is that within my abilities?
“I can assure you, your magic is not yet strong enough to manifest me—or anyone else, for that matter.”
Each word from the strange fae seems to be an inside joke with herself. I never quite know what she is laughing at.
My gaze flits back to the door. “Then why are you here?”
Lady Ashbridge could step outside at any moment.
“Because you made a wish.” Her eyes sparkle. “I heard you through the water, dear one.”
Through the water? Oh, I’m sure.
I roll my eyes, brushing off my gown. “I hope you understand how little sense that makes.”
“Magic doesn’t have to make sense. You wish to go to the ball, and claim there is no way to do so. I’m here to show you hundreds of ways it can be done.”
How does she know what I do and do not wish for?
I step back. “And if I don’t trust you? After all, what reason would I have to put my faith in a peep like you?”